“You put yourself and our baby at risk to help him?—”
“I didn’t do that because I have lingering feelings for him,” she interrupts.
Reaching across the table, I take both of her hands in mine. “I know that, Baby Bird, just as I know that you helped him for me. I love your big heart, but I need you to hear me. Liam isn’t your responsibility anymore. Whatever he does is on him, and if anyone is going to go the extra mile to help him, it will be me. You shouldered the burden of dealing with him for too long. He’s not your responsibility anymore.”
I can’t change all of the times in the past that she’s had to pick up his messes, and keep him on this side of the ground, but this would be the last time that my wife felt responsible for him. She doesn’t belong to him anymore. She never should have in the first place.
Chapter Eight
Griffin - Present
Liam crieslike I haven’t seen since he was a toddler, wondering where his mom went. It moved me then, but I’m a bit more jaded toward my son now. I hate to say that, but a relationship can only take so many hits before it’s changed forever. I’ve forgiven my son, but I have neither Alzheimer's nor amnesia, so I’m not going to be forgetting anytime soon.
Moving past him embezzling from the garage was hard. Not only that, but I learned that my son was also cheating on his wife. Eventually, I convinced myself that my son didn’t do those things; his disease did. It was denial in the extreme, I see that now.
The truth is, yes, the disease contributed, but only by lowering his inhibitions to the point that he did the things I think were already there in his mind. My parents were both drunks, and neither was what you’d call “good people,” but they weren’tparticularly bad people either. They were just there, taking up space and oxygen and contributing nothing to the world around them. You could even argue that they were a bit of a drain on society since they were on and off government programs their entire lives. Yet, neither of them ever went out of their way to take advantage of other people.
Under the influence of pills and booze, my son is the opposite. He lies, steals, and cheats. Liam doesn’t care who he is screwing over, as long as he gets what he wants. But the blame lies on me this time, because we knew all of this, and yet I let myself turn a blind eye to it.
I give him a full minute, because I don’t buy into the bullshit that men can’t cry. His wife left and took the children; he should be bawling his fucking eyes out. That won’t bring them back, though, and no one should feel sorry for him when he did this to himself.
“Alright, Liam, I can see you feel bad right now, but what are you going to do about it?” I ask him.
“What do you want me to do? Maybe this is who I am,” he says.
My shoulders slump down. “If that’s true, then you aren’t someone I want to know, and I think that Claudia was right for taking the kids and leaving you.”
I turn around to leave, but he calls out to stop me. “Dad, wait.”
“Okay,” I say slowly and turn back to face him. “I’m listening, but you start feeding me any bullshit and I’m leaving. I won’t do this with you again.”
He nods his head over and over. It’s like he’s stuck in a loop, and he’s hoping the thoughts will shake loose. “I need help,” he whispers finally.
“That’s a start,” I tell him. This process isn’t easy, and I’m not about to start softening it for him. The rest of us have to push ourway through the shit he leaves in his wake. Why should he get shielded from the consequences?
“I’ve only been using for a few weeks. Just since the accident. She could have given me time. I just need time to get over the pain,” he negotiates.
“Why did Claudia leave, Liam?” I ignore his excuses and cut to the point. “Did you cheat on her?”
“No! I would never cheat on Claudia,” he says as if it’s so far out of the realm of things he would ever do.
“Excuse me if I have a different image of you in my head. It was I who found you bare-assed, drilling into your wife’s best friend. I don’t think that Claudia would walk out on you just because you’re using or drinking again. She’d have come to one of us for help,” I argue.
He hangs his head in shame. “There was a teacher work day, and I told her I’d stay home with the kids. The baby went down for a nap, and Natalie was playing in her room. My back was hurting, so I told myself that I would be able to be a better dad if I just took a couple of pills. The next thing I know, Claudia is shaking me awake. I passed out, and Natalie came to me because the baby was crying. When she couldn’t wake me up, she called Claudia.”
“You washed the pills down with Jack, didn’t you?” I ask. If he’s going to tell me the story, he needs to tell the whole thing, not half of it.
He doesn’t speak the words, but the way he suddenly finds his shoes fascinating is all the answer I need.
“So she took the kids because she couldn’t trust you to take care of them. Smart woman,” I comment.
“Did you show up just to bust my balls, or to help me?” he asks.
My eyebrows rise. “You think I came here for you? No, son. I came here because Wren butt dialed me, and I heard the thingsyou were saying to her over the phone. I didn’t know how you treated her all the years that you were married to her, but I’ll be damned if you’re going to abuse her now.”
“Back when she was my wife. Admit that you wanted her when she was married to me. Give me that much honesty at least,” Liam spits back.
Typical addict response. They get cornered and lash out against anyone. No one is safe from the abuse when they’re fighting to keep using.
